A December Story
by dot11
Summary: It's December at Shield Security Systems. An IT worker (Fitz) and temporary Admin Assistant (Jemma) meet while preparing a career-changing presentation. When they find themselves working together during a month already filled with so much stress and obligation, tensions rise and tempers are tested. Will they realize how perfect they are together before the clock strikes midnight?
1. Three Weeks To Christmas

Like every other morning, the train pulled into the station and chimed as the doors opened. Dreary passengers shuffled on and off, a few with cloth bags tucked under their arms for the holiday shopping they were getting a head start on. It was more crowded than the usual commute this particular morning, but that's because the weather was getting colder. Hats and scarves were adjusted as passengers took their seats or settled into a place to stand. The doors chimed closed again as two women ran to the platform, and at the last moment managed to hop onto the train.

Zoned out commuters edged aside as one of the women, Skye, pushed through and found a safe standing space for the both of them. Jemma followed, casually glancing around at the faces of the people in their car.

* * *

 **JEMMA**

Dusting snow from her hair, Jemma shifted her laptop bag to protect it against her body. A cursory survey of her fellow commuters gave her the information she was after, though it was difficult with so many bodies in the way. She grabbed the pole for balance while her friend adjusted her bags, and a wash of disappointment seeped through her morning cheer.

Jemma resigned herself to the fact that she wouldn't see _him_ today. It was ridiculous that she had managed to get her hopes up again. What would be accomplished by sighting the handsome commuter? They never spoke or acknowledged each other. He was simply fun to look at. A treat. A trifle. She lifted her chin and re-focused on her roommate who appeared to be ready to launch into a rant.

"So May's put me in charge of this Goddamned Christmas party," Skye huffed. "I have no idea what to make the theme."

Jemma tilted her head and smiled in response to the pure frustration on her friend's face. "Are we even allowed to call it a Christmas Party?"

"What do we call it then? A festive end-of year celebration of cold-weather?" She scoffed. "One: that's too long to fit on the invitations. And two: where's the fun in having a generic winter party? It's _Christmas_ , and I want to celebrate!"

"Well Sanjeet might not appreciate it. Or Mrs. Ecclestein."

"Okay, so we throw some candles and menorahs in there too," Skye shrugged. "We don't have to make it _only_ Christmas. The more the merrier. Who else are we missing?"

"Well there are numerous celebrations surrounding the winter solstice," Jemma noted. "Akela may wish to celebrate Kwanzaa. Jennifer may wish to have Chinese New Year represented. Practically anybody might have particular traditions they wish to see incorporated from their native countries. We could poll the office and see..."

"Or," Skye jumped in before Jemma got too carried away, "we could just do the top five celebrations and call it a theme. Winter Solstice around the world," she offered. "Also, how do you already know more people in the office than me?" Skye shook her head with a grin. "I'm the one that got you the job. You've only been here for a few weeks and you already know everyone."

"Skye, please," Jemma rolled her eyes, smiling. "Just because I pay attention when people introduce themselves doesn't mean I know _everybody_ at the office."

"That's right, you still haven't met that guy in IT yet." The train lurched forward as it came to a halt at the next stop. The two women maneuvered themselves in the commuters' dance of letting passengers exit a crowded car. "I still think you two would hit it off," Skye said, grabbing hold of the pole again. "To be fair, he rarely comes out of his cave to socialize with others."

"Hmm, so you keep saying…" Jemma was already tuned out. This topic came up far too frequently for her liking. Besides, she had taken the opportunity of the mass exodus at the last station to peer around once more for the handsome commuter. Just as she was ready to restart her internal scolding, her eye caught the hint of a clump of curls poking out from behind a book. Her mouth dropped open and she felt a flush of blood rush up her cheeks. There he was. Her heart beat audibly faster. She froze, took a deep breath, and focused all of her attention on appearing cool and casual.

"Found him yet?" Skye asked with a sly grin.

Jemma slid her eyes over innocently. "Hmm?"

"The guy you're always looking for on the train. You just saw him, didn't you?" Skye craned her neck, and Jemma swatted her arm to stop her from turning around.

"Shh, Skye, please! I'm not looking for anybody," she gritted teeth that held her smile in place.

"Right. _Nobody_ that happens to be behind me with his nose in a book?"

"There's not-" Skye shot her a look. Jemma grimaced. "It's not obvious, is it? I'm so terrible at this sort of thing."

"It's fine! Look, you should just go talk to him. Introduce yourself."

"And what would be the purpose? There's barely ten minutes of conversation to be had, and _if_ he happens to be unattached and be of a compatible sexual orientation, _I_ don't know how long I'll be allowed to stay in this country if my Visa doesn't get extended."

"Okay, slow down," Skye said, holding up a hand. "You're not _marrying_ the guy; you're just saying hello. And would you stop worrying about that Visa? I told you, as soon as the funding comes in for the new full-time positions, you're a shoe-in. You'll stop working contract and get the job offer you need to extend your work Visa, easy peasy."

"I wish I shared your enthusiasm about it," Jemma shrugged with a pout, watching the train doors open and close at his usual stop.

"Hey, I'm the one in HR. I have the inside track, so just trust me," Skye reminded her. With a weak smile from Jemma, she flipped her hair and turned around to see her friend's view. "Now which one is he? The guy with the…?"

"It doesn't matter anymore, he just got off," Jemma said quickly. "Next time!"

Skye looked at her false smile, entirely unimpressed. "Well we're the next stop anyways," she frowned. "You know what? I'm doing it. Today, I'm going to make up some excuse to have Fitz and you meet. No more of this moping around over some mystery train guy."

"I really wish you wouldn't," Jemma sighed. "I don't need to meet anybody. I'm perfectly happy on my own," she produced her most cheerful smile.

"Yeah," Skye nodded agreeably. "That's what lonely people say."

* * *

 **FITZ**

Fitz rushed into the office with his head down. He was late again. How did this keep happening? This morning he'd left with plenty of time to both account for delays and to get his morning coffee. It was the shoppers. The streets were filled with early Christmas shoppers who would randomly stop in the middle of the street to hem and haw over what to get their loved ones. They had no consideration for people trying to be productive members of society. It was for situations like this that the sidewalks should be divided into lanes.

Fitz jumped as his phone rang in his jacket pocket - right as he passed by May's desk. He cursed himself for forgetting to set it back to vibrate. Melinda May, the head of Human Resources at Shield Security Systems, gave him a sour expression. She looked pointedly at the clock, then back at Fitz. He shot her an apologetic smile as he pulled out his phone and walked quickly down the hall to his corner of the office.

"Mum, hi," he spoke as hushed as he could. "It's really not a good time right now. Just getting in to work," he struggled to untangle himself from his bags while holding onto the phone.

"Not a problem, Leo," his mother's bright voiced chimed on the other end. "Listen, I'm just with Aunt Patricia down at the shopping centre." Fitz had just managed to snake the strap of his messenger bag over his head when it caught an edge of his coffee cup and the phone began to slip from his hands. "We've found me a last-minute deal to America for Christmas!"

Coffee splashed against his chest and the phone clattered to the ground. "Oh for Fuck's sake!" He looked down helplessly, then bent over and picked up the phone from the ground, shaking it off. He could hear his mother's voice before the phone reached his ear.

"-n't be using that filthy language with your mother!" Her voice was simultaneously an octave higher and a guttural bellow. He winced.

"Sorry Mum, no," he tried to cover. "I spilled my coffee is all." He sighed, tucked the phone between his cheek and his shoulder and began looking around his desk for some napkins to get the spill. At his mother's silence, he decided the only tactic was to press on. "A ticket to America is pretty expensive from Glasgow still, isn't it? Sure you can cover it? Not that I wouldn't love to have you and all-"

"Don't be silly," his mother huffed. "You're the one with the big fancy job in America, so it can be your present for me this year, yeah?"

"Mum," he winced, "I keep telling you, I'm only in IT. It's not a big fancy job."

"Mhmm." His mother verbally rolled her eyes. "And why isn't it? You should be running that company, the brains in your head. I don't understand half the things you say, you might as well put it all to some use."

"Mum, it's fine. It's not the right time yet, yeah? Can we drop it?"

His mother paused, as if bracing herself. "Well maybe it _should_ be the right time." He waited. These dramatic pauses were never a good sign. "Leopold, I know I tend to coddle you sometimes, but," she let out a determined breath then plowed forward. "I've been reading up on Millennials and what they call empty nesting syndrome. I think it's time for me to clip your wings and show some hard love. You need to reach your potential, and I'm holding you back by helping you out. So," she said calmly, "I've decided that in the New Year, I'll be stopping sending my care packets."

"Stop sending your care packets…" Fitz repeated. Her meaning dawned on him. "Now hold on just a minute, Mum! New Years is less than a month away! I've still got rent and bills to pay. You need to give me more warning than that."

"I'm sorry son, you'll just have to figure something else out."

"Mum, please, can we just discuss-"

"I'll see you for Christmas, yeah?" His mum cut him off. "Just for a few days. It will be nice to see you. Make sure you're getting enough to eat. There's the bus now. Must go!"

The phone bleeped off, and Fitz stared at the screen blinking 'Call Ended.' The hot coffee was now chilled on his shirt and made him shudder. He let out a long groan.

"Fitz, staff meeting in 30," May stood behind his desk. He jumped a little, not having heard her approach. She had a stern look on her face.

Fitz opened and shut his mouth, trying to think of something to say. He had successfully avoided staff meetings for the last six months, and was not keen on breaking his record, especially right now. Typically, they had nothing to do with him anyways. All important news would trickle down through the email threads sent afterwards. But here was May. She had already seen him come in late, and he was afraid of what she would do if he poked the dragon one too many times in a single hour. There was no way out of it this time. He nodded grimly. She stared at him then turned and walked back down the hallway.

Coffee. It was a necessity this morning. Though now he had to go for the office coffee cart, he realized. It was not a pleasant prospect. With its central location in the office and stale-tasting coffee beans, the coffee cart coffee was by far inferior to the coffee he had just lost. The coffee he sought out every morning by getting off the train a whole two stops early to buy. He sighed. Still, it was better than nothing.

Fitz slunk down the hall. When he caught sight of a young woman standing at the coffee cart, he almost immediately decided to turn back and avoid the whole uncomfortable exchange of small-talk. It was his aching head that reminded him a coffee was a requirement this morning, despite the deterrents. He waited patiently for her to finish with the cream, then reached in behind her, hoping to just grab his coffee and head back to his desk quickly.

"Oh!" She jumped as he picked up the carton.

"Sorry, didn't mean to sneak up on you like that," he mumbled.

"Not to worry, I've got a strong heart," she brought a hand to her chest, and smiled at him. His eyes met hers for a brief instant, and the world went suddenly silent. She quickly glanced back down at her mug, stirring the contents. Despite his comfortable chair calling for him, he found himself intrigued.

"Hey, uh, do we know each other?" He asked before she could walk away. "You look awfully familiar…"

"Well, I work just round the corner in administration. Second week."

He considered. "Can't be it. I don't know anyone here. Never really leave my end of the office."

"I think maybe- that is, I think I've seen you on the train a few times," she continued to stare at her mug. "The green line? Maybe that's where we've seen each other."

"Oh yeah, must be it then," Fitz nodded slowly. Was that a blush? It suited her. "I come in from Main Street area."

"Yeah, I'm in that neighborhood too," she grinned, meeting his eyes again. "Maybe a bit south though."

"Well, small world." They both stood still, neither moving for a solid minute. He tried desperately to think of something else to say, but his brain hadn't caught up to what was happening yet.

Finally, she shifted her feet and gave him another quick smile. "Yeah. So. See you on the train later maybe?" She hesitated for a moment, then gave a tiny wave and took a step back down the hallway with her mug. All he could do was nod and smile with one hand on his waist, the other holding his coffee. It was only when she disappeared around the corner that he realized she couldn't hear or see his response as she walked away. Idiot!

* * *

 **JEMMA**

Skye _: (10:08) I'm saving you a seat at the staff meeting in 20. Front row, centre._

Jemma: _(10:08) Ok. See you there._

Skye: _(10:09) How's your big presentation coming? Think it'll be ready for next week?_

Jemma: _(10:12) It will be ready. My computer's being particularly slow right now though. :(_

Skye: _(10:12) Buggy laptops suck :(_

 _(10:12) Hopefully it gets better soon_

 _(10:12) Don't want it to screw up your big presentation_

 _(10:12) You should get IT to have a look._

Jemma: _(10:17) Maybe. I'm going to try a few more things then concede defeat._

Skye: _(10:17) Ask for Fitz…_

Jemma: _(10:21) This isn't going to turn into one of your schemes is it?_

 _(10:22) …?_

Skye: _(10:24) Ask for Fitz…_

Jemma rolled her eyes and switched her phone to silent. The constant buzzing was pulling her attention from her lack of progress. She had closed most of the background programs, yet the computer still managed to take far too long on the most menial of tasks. Saving a document should not take this long.

Everything was riding on this presentation she was preparing. It had to go perfectly so that she impressed the board. Impressing the board would get her the promotion. Getting the promotion would extend her work Visa. Extending her work Visa meant she could stay in the country instead of being sent home to her parents with nothing to show for her grand little adventure in America. To say she was nervous was an understatement.

Despite her numerous qualifications and abilities, presentations were never her greatest skill. Therefore, Jemma was attempting to get the slides and information prepared ahead of time so that she could spend the rest of the week practicing and preparing with Skye at their shared flat. Perhaps she would pepper some silly quips and jokes in to keep the audience on their toes. On the bright side, the slides were nearly complete. If her computer hadn't suddenly decided to turn to molasses, she would be able to start preparations tonight. A part of her wanted to skip the staff-meeting so that she could continue to attempt to fix it and speed up the process.

Jemma sighed and looked at the clock. She wouldn't miss the staff meeting. Skye had been hinting at a big announcement all week, and though she would never admit it aloud, she loved going to meetings like this. They made sure that everybody was on the same page and knew their expectations. Order and organization were what companies and their employees needed. Besides, the board would be there, and she intended to observe their potential receptibility to presentations. It didn't hurt that a certain person from the morning commute might also be there…

Jemma leaned forward in her chair and took a sip from her mug as the mouse continued to spin on the computer screen. How strange was it that the mystery train man actually worked in her office? She couldn't believe she'd forgotten to ask his name. How had she never seen him here? She was quite certain he had never got off the train at their stop. She would have remembered that. It was actually all a bit thrilling. Now she had reason enough to speak to him on the train. Now she had yet another reason to get this promotion and stay at Shield Security Systems.

Jemma looked at her watch, then stood. She was cutting it close. She walked down the hallway and into the big conference room at the end of the hall. She took a moment to look around the room. There was Skye with her saved seat near the front. The train guy wasn't there yet, so she walked over and sat next to her friend.

"How's the computer?" Skye whispered.

Jemma frowned and gave her the thumbs-down.

"That sucks. You should really just send it down to-"

"Alright, if everyone's here," Coulson stood at the front of the room. There was a squeak at the door as a last-minute addition snuck into the room. Everyone's heads turned to see the curly-haired man try to duck in unnoticed. Jemma tried to hide her smile. He inched around the side of the room and finally settled against the wall, realizing there were no seats left. She cast a sideways glance at him, just as his eyes slipped away from her with a sheepish grin.

"I'm going to turn this over to Skye to get started," Coulson announced. The young woman bounced up immediately, taking control of the room with pleasure.

"As some of you may know, the end of the year is coming up," Skye began. "Which means it's time for our annual Shield Security Systems company party!" There was rustling in the audience which Skye took for the audience's enthusiasm. "I've already signed everyone up for Secret Santa, so no need to put your names in a ballot. It's all automated online this year, so you'll get an email with who your giftee is after the meeting." There were a few audible groans, but Skye chose to ignore them. "Aim for about a $20 gift," she gestured, "and I think that's…" May caught her eye before she could wrap up. "Oh, right," she continued. "Guys, please nothing inappropriate this year," she shook her finger at the room. "The Bieber doll from last year was funny, but we can all agree that getting Woody the Cowboy involved made things spiral out of control pretty fast." There were chuckles behind Jemma, and May closed her eyes, subtly shaking her head. "And I think that's all from me!" Skye took a bow, then hopped back over to her seat next to Jemma.

"Thanks for that Skye," Coulson said, doing his best to cover his grin at the memory of Bieber and Woody. He clapped his hands together and looked around at his audience. "Now for the big news." The room hushed almost instantly. "I'm sure a lot of you have been hearing rumors, and it's finally my privilege to let you all in on the good news," Coulson paused for dramatic effect. Jemma looked at her friend with confusion, but Skye simply raised her eyebrows and nodded towards the front slyly. Coulson continued. "In the new year, our company will be merging with another top security firm," he said. "Alliance."

The tension in the room deflated like a small leak in a tire. A small murmur wafted through the air. It wasn't entirely negative, but it wasn't as positive as Coulson clearly had hoped. He held his hands out and kept the smile plastered on his face. "Now I don't want anyone to be afraid of what's to come," he said. "There will obviously be shifts in the workplace, but we've been working with the team at Alliance and are doing everything we can to make sure this merger is as smooth and painless as possible for all involved."

Jemma balked. No wonder her presentation had been fast-tracked to before the holidays. She was surprised she wasn't told a little sooner, but it all made more sense if they were merging companies. Alliance, while bigger, didn't have quite the same level of resources that Shield Security Systems did. She was being asked to explain how their systems worked, and how they could optimize everything to keep up with coming trends in security measures. As a consultant, it was a great job. But if a merger was happening, she had the opportunity to make herself indispensable.

The importance of Jemma's presentation was now all the more apparent. She needed to go over the slides one last time, and she couldn't do that while it was so slow. She could no longer sit idly by and wait for things to resolve themselves. A professional needed to fix her laptop.

* * *

 **FITZ**

"You know what this means though, right?" Trip asked, spinning around in his chair.

"What?"

"Layoffs. Right before Christmas."

Fitz shook his head. "Coulson wouldn't do that," he clicked and opened his email again to go over the written announcement. It was much the same as was in the meeting. More proof that he didn't need to attend these things.

"Maybe Coulson wouldn't," Trip leaned back. "But what about these Alliance guys? Shield's been getting smaller and smaller, so no wonder we've had to merge with Alliance. They're probably going to want to stick with the people they know. And I hear their CEO Gonzales is a real hard-ass."

"I really doubt it will affect our department though," Fitz shrugged.

"Yeah, you think what you like, Fitz," Trip shook his head. "I just know I'm going to start kissing as much ass as I can to keep my job."

"But isn't their IT division behind?" Fitz turned. "We've got far more advanced systems and a more qualified team. There's no way they're going to get rid of us."

"I don't know," Trip had already turned back around and was looking at his own computer again. "Hey, did you check your email?"

"It's open. Why?"

"Who'd you get for Secret Santa?"

"Do we really have to do this?" Fitz grumbled. " _This_ is the problem with automated technology right here. Last year all I had to do was not show up and no one included me in these ridiculous office social things."

"Oh stop being such a Grinch," Trip chuckled. "Who'd you get?"

Fitz removed the email from his junk folder and opened it to humour his friend. "Someone named Simmons. Jemma Simmons. Never heard of her." He closed the email again and turned away.

"Oh Simmons, yeah," Trip thought aloud. "She's new. I think she's friends with Skye."

Fitz shrugged. "Hopefully she likes gift-cards. With my Mum coming, I won't have time to find a gift for some stranger. Honestly, why do they sign us up for this rubbish? We should have the choice of opting out."

"You know, I think this will be good for you, Fitz," Trip laughed aloud.

A soft knock on the side of the wall made them both stop what they were doing. No one ever came down here. "Fitz? Is there a Fitz here?" a woman's voice twittered. Fitz sat up straighter. The voice was uncannily familiar. It couldn't be.

"Yeah, here, Fitz." He moved quickly to the front counter, bumping his leg on his desk. "I mean, that's me," he managed. There she was, the girl from the coffee cart, standing holding onto a laptop. She grinned her thousand-watt smile when she saw him, and he nearly fell back down.

"We meet again!" She beamed. "It seems the world keeps getting smaller and smaller."

"Apparently," he agreed, feeling his brain power screech to an inconvenient halt in her presence. It was pretty unnerving, actually.

"So," she cleared her throat, "I'm here because I'm actually having some trouble with my laptop and was told Fitz was the person to ask."

He nodded dumbly before one of the gears in his head graciously kicked in. He reached and grabbed the laptop from her, clearing space on the counter and opening it up. "You didn't have to come all the way down here, you know. We usually go to you."

"Sorry, I wasn't sure what the protocol was," she furrowed her eyebrows in concern. He had to look away. She was far too mesmerizing.

"Not a bother," he dismissed her concern with the wave of his hand. "What seems to be the problem?"

"Well, it's just being a bit slow," she explained, leaning in behind him as the computer continued its sluggish attempt to load her slides. "Not a bit, actually. Far too slow. I have a big presentation next week for the board, and I need it to run smoothly. Do you think you could fix it?"

"Yeah, 'course. What I'm here for," he said cheerfully, doing his best not to let the sweet scent of her perfume overwhelm his brain. "First things first. Have you tried-"

"Turning it off and on again?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, of course that's the first thing I tried, but it didn't seem to help any. Just took a half hour to reboot."

He exhaled. "Odd. Did you try going through your hard-"

"Hard drive? Yes." She stepped away from the counter and began pacing back and forth. He wasn't sure if the distance was helping his brain work any better. "There's more than enough disk space and RAM that it shouldn't be running so slowly. I also checked the _settings_ on the drive to see if there were any issues, but everything seems to be working fine. Aside from running like molasses, the computer is in perfect working condition," she shrugged helplessly and stopped behind him again. "I mean, that I could tell. But of course I'm no expert."

"You haven't, ah, contracted a virus, have you?" She glared at him. "Of course you haven't. Sounds like you have enough smarts to avoid that particular trap…" Fitz breathed. "Alright. I'll take a look. I'll send you an update at the end of the day."

"Thank you _so_ much. Really," the coffee-cart girl smiled with relief. "If at all possible, I'll need it back for Monday. Presentation's next week, so I'll need time to prepare. You know how it is."

"Sure. Absolutely," Fitz nodded. "It shouldn't take that long. It's a fairly simple set of diagnostics to see what's really wrong with it, and you've already done half my job." He looked down at his own computer and started to input the ticket into the system. "What's, ah… that is, who do I send the computer to when it's done?"

"Right! Sorry, I'm Jemma. Jemma Simmons." She smiled. He simply blinked at her for a moment. She waited for further response. When it became clear she wouldn't get any, she looked over the counter uncomfortably, then turned and walked back down the hall.

Fitz stared at the space where she had just left. Jemma Simmons. Of course she was.

Trip slowly rolled his chair over and stopped next to his friend. " _What_ was that?"

"Hmm?" Fitz asked, pressing a few keys on the computer.

"You and her. I'm sensing there's something…?"

"Will you shut it? I just met her," he sighed and held the off button to shut the laptop down. "Not everything has to have romantic undertones you know. Two people can just meet and be friendly." The screen went blank and he pressed the button again to reboot it.

"No, you're right, that's absolutely true," the other man held his hands up in defeat.

"Thank you."

"But not here," Trip winked.

Fitz rolled his eyes, then turned back to the screen that had developed a blue glow. "Oh shite-" his eyes suddenly went wide. "No, no. Nonono!"

"What? What is it?"

Fitz stared white-faced at the screen in front of him. He pounded desperately at a chain of key commands but his heart froze for ten heart-wrenching seconds. Deep down he knew there was nothing he could do.

"Fitz?!"

The screen glinted in his eyes, making them a more vibrant shade of blue. It was every IT person's worst nightmare: the blue screen of death.

"It's gone," he stammered. "The laptop. It's dead."


	2. Two Weeks To Christmas

**FITZ**

 _Miss Simmons,_

 _The computer and hard-drive you left with the IT department are currently undergoing diagnostics. We regret to inform you that the process is taking longer than first anticipated, but you should have the device back no later than December 23_ _rd_ _. We make no guarantees that the device will be returned in the same state it was received, but please be assured that we are doing everything we possibly can to ensure prompt and effective service. We apologize for any inconveniences._

 _Sincerely, L. Fitz_

The email on his screen was burning odd colours into his vision from staring at it for so long. Eventually, he blinked and instinctively rubbed the kaleidoscope of letters from his eyes. He glanced up at the clock. It was 4:45 and he still hadn't sent it. He knew he should. It was his job. He'd spent all day running diagnostics and trying desperately to get the information on the hard-drive back for Jemma, but it was no use.

She needed to know, yet he couldn't bring himself to hit send. The email was too cold and professional. He knew this information would devastate her. Ready by the 23rd according to their system, but her presentation was the 18th. Still, it was his job. And she needed to know.

Fitz leaned forward in his chair and buried his face in his hands, clawing his fingers up through his hair and rubbing his palms into his eyes. A gentle cough erupted near the doorway, making him jump.

"Sorry," she said, chuckling at how on edge he was. "Just me, checking on my laptop. Haven't heard anything yet and I was just getting ready to head out for the day," she peered around the corner with a polite smile. Fitz gave a numb nod. "So. What's the verdict?" She was clearly trying to remain positive. His face fell, and he had to look away. "Ah. That bad?" She looked down with disappointment, reading him like an open book. It nearly tore his heart out. He'd let her down. She lifted her chin quickly again though, and spoke with firm optimism. "Just tell me then. What's wrong with it? How long will it take?"

"It's not so much what's wrong with it as…" he sighed. "That is, it's… all gone." His eyes flitted up to hers and away again. "The entire hard-drive crashed and I've been doing everything I can to get it back."

"I see," she said nodding automatically. " _All_ of the data is gone then?"

"Yeah," he said, wincing.

"All right. So I'll just have to… piece it back together then. Or something," she shrugged pragmatically. "It's not like it's a lot of information. Just the presentation," she looked off distantly, "the entire presentation..." a hint of panic flashed across her face.

"I'm going to keep working at it though," Fitz assured her, standing. "With any luck I'll be able to get some of it back."

"Right," she said again, tilting her head. "What's the likelihood of that, practically speaking? Just give it to me so I know what I'm dealing with. Realistically."

"Realistically?" He sighed. She looked at him firmly, ready for whatever he threw at her. "Realistically… It's about a 20% chance that you'll get the presentation back."

"I see," she said again, nodding.

"But I'm really good at this sort of thing. I'm sure to grab some things from it."

She nodded down at her hands, then looked back up at him. "20%?"

"You must have back-ups of it too though, yeah?" He said, trying to turn this whole thing more positive.

She was silent. "Perhaps. I'll have a look around home this weekend. It's bound to be somewhere," she looked off distantly again. "Worse comes to worst, I can put it all back together from the notes I kept. At least the data will be the same," the corners of her mouth twitched up in a poor imitation of a smile.

He felt awful. "Did you want any help?" He tried. "Like I said, I really am good at this sort of thing and can make piecing it back together go a lot faster."

"No." She immediately shook her head. Then, remembering herself, she looked over at him and smiled politely. "I mean, that's very kind of you, but I tend to work better alone. It will go much faster if I don't have distractions. Thank you anyways for your service."

"'Course," he said miserably.

"Well. I'm off," she said. "Happy weekend."

"Yeah, you too," Fitz winced as she turned and walked quickly away.

For the first time in his five years of working at the company, Fitz stayed late that night. On a Friday. He was neck-deep in code by the time the night watch came in and told him he should go home and get some sleep. He packed his stuff up with him and left. He worked from home over the weekend, but made little progress. He felt rotten.

On Monday morning, he sat on the train numbly, not even bothering to get out his book. He wouldn't have noticed the doors open if it hadn't been for the bubbly woman that jumped on at the next stop and waved incessantly at him. His head jerked up, and there she was. He didn't even have the chance to let the floor swallow him whole before Skye grinned and walked over. Jemma followed reluctantly, avoiding eye contact.

"So you're the reason I had the worst weekend ever," Skye plopped herself into the empty seat next to him.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Fitz looked down sheepishly.

"Seriously, the entire place is a wreck now because of the hunt for phantom notes and thumb drives," she sighed. "I wanted you two to meet, but this was _not_ the way I wanted it to happen."

Fitz shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "I'm probably the last guy you want to see on the train this morning," he said, glancing up at Jemma.

"Mmhmm…" she said absently. She sounded like she was going to say something else, but instead trailed off and looked away.

Skye waited a beat, then sighed. "Well, you're absolutely the last guy she wants to see _now_ , but that's not necessarily your fault," Skye leaned forward and whispered loudly. "Jemma's got her eye out for a secret train suitor," she giggled and sat back. "With this mess-up you caused, I've given up trying to hook you up with her!"

"You what?" Fitz coughed.

"Skye!" Jemma blurted out, head whipping round to face her friend. There was a definite blush creeping up her neck. Fitz felt his heart soar and sink at the exact same moment.

"What? We're all adults here," Skye waved off. "Oh, he's not _here_ is he?" she looked around her. "Whatever. If he is, this is me giving a public service announcement that he has to make the first move, okay?" She said loudly. "I'm tired of waiting to go on double dates because this one doesn't know how flirting works!"

"Skye, please stop," Jemma said, looking mortified.

"You were trying to – me and her?" Fitz asked, mouth hanging open.

"Well yeah," Skye said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You're both the biggest nerds I know, so I figured you'd hit it off. _Obviously_ not happening now, so. Sorry for stepping on toes!" She crossed her arms and looked out the window.

There was a loud silence as Fitz tried desperately to think of something to say to that, and Jemma hid her face in her hands, hoping they would magically transport her far away. The silence stretched on.

"So, uh…" Fitz started, hoping that at least opening his mouth would give him inspiration for a subject change. "How is, er, how's your presentation coming along then?" He wilted internally. _That_ was the topic he chose? The one reason this beautiful creature had to hate him, and he brings it up first thing. He winced.

"Could be worse I suppose," Jemma said politely. "Obviously the events of Friday were a large setback, but I've still got the data and the outline. Should be ready to go for Friday."

"Good, good." Fitz bobbed his head encouragingly. "What's the presentation on, if I don't mind my asking?"

"Efficiency, mostly." Jemma said. "I'm explaining how all the systems work together and making suggestions on how to keep the company on the cutting edge of the security game."

"Well that's at least interesting," Fitz brightened, leaning forward. "Everybody wants mobile access to every quantifiable thing, but are afraid to give it to others. If we really wanted to go top of the line we'd have to embed biological scanners into the more affordable consumer products."

"Biological scanners?" Jemma said, mouth dropping open slightly.

"Not just video and motion sensors," he pressed on. "We could make fingerprinting and facial recognition available in homes, make it so your security system recognizes Aunt Mildred if she happens to collect your mail while you're on vacation. If she has a crowbar with her, maybe it doesn't let her in. That sort of thing."

Jemma blinked and cocked her head to the side. "Well yes, I go into biological scanning a little bit… But don't you think that's going a bit far with it?"

"Everybody's going to think something or other is too far," Fitz waved off. "It doesn't mean it shouldn't be available. We're talking future here, top of the line. Progress."

"And don't you think we have a responsibility to make sure that what we offer is actually-"

"In the best interests of our customers?" Fitz shrugged. "That's not up for us to decide though, is it? We're just the ones making it."

"Or at least thinking it up. Skye, what do you think?"

Their friend looked at them, bewildered. "Don't look at me, I'm in HR. I lost you the moment you said _quantifiable_."

Jemma rolled her eyes and turned to face Fitz as though she was trying to figure something out. "You talk like you know more about this than an incompetent IT technician should. Don't tell me you actually make these things on the side too?"

"If only," Fitz shrugged. "I _did_ get a degree in it all once upon a time. Engineering. But it's not exactly a booming field at the moment so…"

"Perhaps that's best for us all," Jemma winked. "I'd be terrified to see what you would mess up on home security if you can't handle a buggy laptop."

Fitz opened his mouth to protest.

"Okay you two, we're here," Skye said, standing. "Save the bloodbath for later, will you?"

Fitz sighed as they all got off the train. They walked the rest of the way to the office in a heavy awkward silence, none of them sure how to continue the conversation.

* * *

 **JEMMA**

Jemma found herself at the help desk. She wasn't entirely sure why, but there she was: standing in the doorway to the IT department. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and then knocked against the wall.

"Hello?" a smooth male voice echoed from around the corner.

"Yes, hi, just… checking something," Jemma started. The man that edged around the corner was good-looking and had a very nice smile. Jemma grinned politely. "Actually, I just wanted to see if-"

"Oh right," the man lifted a finger for her to pause her rambling. "Fitz! It's for you," the dark man's eyes twinkled as he called over his shoulder. He leaned down on the counter and gave her a measured look. "So you must be Jemma Simmons," he said finally. "The new girl we've all been hearing about."

"Yes, I suppose so," she said uncomfortably. "And you must be…?"

"Trip. Call me Trip," he reached out a hand for her to shake. "I work in IT with Fitz," he said. There was a scampering of feet around the corner, and Fitz' face appeared around the wall.

"Jemma!" Fitz said, surprised. "Just the person I wanted to see, actually," he muttered.

"Oh?" Jemma brought her hands together. Trip shook his head and slinked back around the corner, leaving the two of them alone.

"Yeah. I've got a backup computer for you," he said, lifting a black bag from beneath the counter. "Not as nice as the one you left here, but at least then you're not working with paper and pen on your presentation."

"That-that is ideal, actually. Thank you," she looked from the bag to him, and smiled.

"Welcome," he said. "So what was it you-"

"Right. No, sorry," she shook her head. "Just wanted to see if there was any progress on my laptop, really."

"Ah," his face fell. "Not much, unfortunately. Sorry. It really will be a lot longer." Fitz frowned. "Difficult to re-image a computer after the Blue Screen of Death fries everything."

"I assumed so," she nodded and pressed her lips together in a firm line. "Just miss it is all, I suppose," she shrugged.

"I really am sorry," his brows knitted together. He looked really quite pained. "Wish there was something more I could've done to prevent it."

She shook her head. "No use dwelling on it now, is there?" She offered him a warmer smile. "What's done is done. It probably would have happened if I'd kept the computer with me anyways as I'd originally intended."

"I guess we'll never know," he said. "Sorry either way. Hope the new laptop helps."

She nodded and reached for the new bag. Strictly speaking she should walk back to her desk now. They'd dealt with what they needed to deal with, and there was no need for the conversation to continue. Save for handing her old laptop back, their business was done. Still, she lingered.

Jemma took a breath, then looked right at him. "Did you want to meet me for lunch?" He froze. "That is, I want to run a few more things by you about the topic of progress in security," she explained. "What we were discussing on the train really got me thinking, and maybe I could use a different perspective as I go over the presentation again, is all." She could hear herself start to babble, and he still looked like a deer in the headlights. "No obligations or anything," she said quickly, giving him an out. "Just colleagues talking shop, nothing else."

"Of course," he said, bringing his hands together and fidgeting with his fist.

"It just might be nice to chat about it with someone that can… you know, _keep up_ … You really don't have to-"

"Yeah," he said, nodding.

"I'm sorry?"

"Lunch would be nice," his mouth curved into a smile. "I should warn you that I won't hold anything back, though. A debate's a debate whether or not sandwiches are involved."

"Naturally," she grinned back. "A debate it is. Shall we say 1:00?"

"Great,"

"Great." She nodded, then turned and walked back down the hall with a smile on her face.

"But I do know exactly what you meant," she said later, unwrapping her sandwich. "Earlier that is, about your job. Here _I_ am working in administration on a temporary basis, meanwhile my background is in Biology and Chemistry!" She tipped her fries out onto her plate and motioned for him to help himself. "So much of me wishes I could go back in time and tell my younger self to go into business or finances. There's just no jobs in the things you dream about when you're young."

"Don't say that," Fitz grimaced. "You'll make me start feeling old and hopeless. Life's not so bad in administration, is it?" He picked up some fries from her plate and shoved them into his mouth between bites of his own sandwich.

"Not all bad," she chewed on her bottom lip to keep from grinning. "Now let's get down to business," she leaned forward and lifted an eyebrow. "Tell me. What are your thoughts on automation?"

The two of them continued to meet over the next few days. All coincidentally at first, of course. They happened to see each other at the coffee cart at work, or on the train. But their conversations always felt cut off. So they began to go out of their way to continue their discussions at lunchtime, then they exchanged emails about different aspects she should focus her presentation on. It was surprising how easy it was to talk with him. She hadn't had this level of intelligent conversation since, well, ever. They matched each other beat for beat, building off of the other's ideas and challenging any preconceived notions they might have held. To say it was refreshing for her was perhaps the greatest understatement that could be made. And they had barely known each other for a week.

The Thursday before her presentation, Jemma stood in a shop over lunch hour waiting for Skye, smiling at her phone. She had just received Fitz' latest email detailing the many ridiculous uses of thermal scanners.

 _While useful for places such as refrigerator companies, a thermal scanner at a mall would be about as effective as a mouse in a cheese factory._

Jemma laughed aloud.

" _There_ you are," Skye grumbled, clutching desperately at the items in her overflowing arms. "Something funny?"

"Sorry, I've just got this email from-"

"Fitz. Of course. Say no more," Skye sighed. "Can you at least give me a hand with these things?"

"Absolutely. Here, use this basket," Jemma offered the object she'd been sent in search of a few minutes prior.

"A basket! Genius!" Skye glared dryly. "Where were you with that ten minutes ago?"

Jemma winced. "Sorry, I guess I was a little distracted and lost track of time," she said, slipping her phone away into her pocket.

"You've been distracted a lot this past week," Skye said, scrutinizing her friend's expression.

"It's this presentation!" Jemma shook her head, helping Skye transfer her items to the basket. "It's coming up much faster than expected, and needing to throw it all back together at the last minute has really thrown me for a loop," she explained. "You know what it means to me if this all goes well."

"Yeah, yeah. Promotion, Visa, long live America, we all know the drill," Skye muttered, tossing her candles and dreidels into the basket as Jemma held it out. She looked up and narrowed her eyes at her friend. "It has absolutely _nothing_ to do with the co-conspirator on the presentation at all, of course."

"I'm not sure what you-"

"Please, Fitz may as well do the presentation _for_ you with all the times you two've gone over it together," Skye laughed as Jemma's mouth fell open with indignation. "All I'm saying is, you weren't nearly as interested in presenting to the board before he got involved."

"Well that was before I knew how much was riding on it," Jemma said, finding it difficult to keep the offense out of her voice.

"Stop, okay? I see the way you two look at each other. You, like, light up!" Skye nudged her arm supportively as apprehension flooded her friend's expression. "And it's _nice_ , Jemma. I haven't seen you look at anything that way other than your old university textbooks."

"He really is very smart," Jemma conceded. "It's nice to have a friend that can keep up with me intellectually-" Skye gave her a pointed look. "Not that you _can't_ , of course, it's just, you know, _different_ ," she tried to back-track. "You know that I think you're highly intelligent, Skye..."

"Mmhmm. Regular Einstein, that's what they call me." Skye rolled her eyes. "You don't think there's anything more to it than that with him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, _more_ … You know…"

"Please, Skye! I hardly think he thinks of me _that_ way. We're work colleagues. Not everything has to be about sex and romance."

"Who said anything about sex?" Skye howled. The other people in the lineup turned and stared at the two of them, and Jemma turned away, covering her face apologetically. "Alright, geeze, forget I mentioned it," Skye said. They waited in silence as the line moved along the checkout counter. "Can I just say one thing, and then I'll drop it?" Jemma glared patiently at her friend. "It just looks like it's a little more than friendly office talk," Skye held her hands out. "That's all. Subject dropped."

They walked out of the store and round the corner. Jemma wasn't quite ready to talk to her friend yet, but they both still had some shopping to get done before heading back to the office. Suddenly a man rounded the corner into them and her bags fell to the sidewalk in a mess of baubles and glitter. It was Fitz.

"Oh god, I'm sorry. I thought I might run into you here, but this is not what I'd planned."

"It's fine," they all bent down and picked up the things that had tumbled onto the sidewalk. When he wasn't looking, Skye mouthed over to Jemma, _You keep tabs on eachother?_ Jemma shot her friend a look that warned her to leave it alone. Skye rolled her eyes.

"So I have a surprise for you," Fitz said, dropping the last red-envelope of coins into the bag.

"Oh?" Jemma looked up politely, focusing on him and not her roommate.

"Your laptop is ready," he beamed. "I managed to fix it."

"Well, that's great news!"

"Yeah," he nodded, hands resting on his hips. "So, uh, I was wondering…" he stood awkwardly, "I know your presentation is coming up tomorrow, and maybe you, uh," he lifted an arm and scratched the back of his head. "Maybe you wanted help transferring everything back to your old laptop? You should really do it all from the computer you know instead of the crumby one I loaned you."

"Oh. Well, I-" Jemma blinked, still refusing to look at the grin that creeping up Skye's face.

"It wouldn't take long," he added quickly. "I'd do it all myself, make sure it's all copied over so it won't take any extra time. You can use me to practice too if you want," he looked down. "Just an idea."

"She would love that," Skye said cheerfully. "In fact, why don't you come over tonight and set it all up? I'll be gone most of the night to work on this giant festive party thing anyways. Simmons could use the company."

"Yeah?" Fitz' eyes lit up, turning to Jemma hopefully.

Jemma glared at Skye, who shot her an innocent grin back. She then turned back to Fitz, quickly molding her expression into a warm smile. "Yeah, come on over. That would be lovely."

"Alright," he nodded and settled his hands back on his hips. He abruptly started walking away, then stopped and turned back. "Oh, should I bring anything?"

"Just the laptop," Jemma offered. "That would be helpful."

"Right, of course, definitely the laptop." They nodded at each other, then he turned and began walking down the street again.

"She'll see you at six," Skye shot over her shoulder. "Come hungry!"

"Skye!" Jemma shoved her friend and walked forward with her hand covering her face.

"What?" Skye scampered after her.

"Six it is, then!" Jemma heard Fitz call back. She turned and saw him wave from down the street before pedestrians and shoppers stepped through the path and blocked her view.

* * *

 **FITZ**

Fitz held his breath outside the door of the brownstone and rubbed his hands together. It was snowing. He was here. There was no turning back now. The seconds ticked away like hours, but eventually he heard footsteps and saw movement from behind the tinted glass window on the door. It swung open, and there she was. Her hair was loose and her shirt was un-tucked from her tight jeans. It wasn't how he was used to seeing her, so relaxed and comfortable, but he liked it.

"I brought some refreshments," he said, lifting the pack of beer up from the cold ground. "I hope that's okay."

She beamed and held the door open for him. "It'll be needed. So long as it's anything but Scotch," she laughed.

"The drink of my people?" He walked past her and gasped in offense.

"It tastes like nail polish remover and bad decisions," she wrinkled her nose. "I've had one too many experiences with it for my liking."

"An intriguing way to begin any tale," he observed suggestively.

She winked as he slipped his shoes off. "Maybe I'll tell it later…"

He stood back up, not sure how to respond. He nodded and then handed her the case. "Just beer though," he managed. "So you'll be fine."

She grabbed the beer and moved further back into the apartment. "I hope _you_ don't mind. I already ordered us some Chinese," she said over her shoulder

"Right. Perfect." He stood in the foyer beneath an old staircase and marveled at the beautiful space. How had she managed to find somewhere like this?

"I also took the liberty of digging out some old Christmas films for when we need a break," she said, coming back with a big grease-stained paper bag. She motioned to a table in the living room. "I've got all the classics."

He stepped into the other room and picked up the old DVD cases while she unpacked the food. "Scrooge, Grinch, Rudolph, and Frosty the Snowman…" he said, sifting through the pile. "No Doctor Who Christmas Specials?"

She laughed. "I haven't been able to find those particular classics over here yet."

"Well we'll have to take care of that," he scoffed. "Give me ten minutes and I'll locate them online for you, easy…"

She nodded to the briefcase in his hand. "Is that it?"

"What? Oh, the laptop. Yeah, here it is," he said, placing it on the table between the takeout containers and DVDs. "Good as new, as promised."

"Before the deadline, even," she grinned, stepping closer. "I must say I'm impressed."

He shrugged. "Would have been better last week, but at least you get to use it like you planned. I managed to give it a few upgrades, so you won't have any more problems with speed," he pointed to the laptop, resting his other hand on his waist. "I also gave the battery a bit of a boost while I was under the hood, so..."

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Nah, it's my job," he shrugged again.

"No really, thank you for all of this," she said, holding his eyes with hers. "Your help with the presentation has been beyond obliging, and I can't begin to repay you enough for it." She glanced down and pulled a pack of cue cards out from her back pocket, fumbling with them. "It's far better than the rubbish I was going in with before you got involved, anyways." She sat down on the couch, and he immediately followed. "I'll be a shoe-in for this promotion, so with any luck they'll let me stay," she smiled hopefully.

"They'd be fools not to," he pointed out. "That'd be payment enough."

They sat, blushing next to each other for a few moments. Then he reached over and grabbed a box of noodles from the table. "Alright then, Simmons. Let's get started," he opened the box and motioned for her to stand. "Show me what you've got for this presentation."

"Right now? Just like that?" She laughed.

"What are we waiting for? C'mon. Time is of the essence. _Wow_ me."

"Okay…" She got up from the couch and shuffled her cue cards. She walked over to stand at the front of the room and rolled her eyes as he beamed back with a mouthful of noodles. She cleared her throat and adjusted her posture. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the board…"

"I can't say it straight when you keep making me laugh!" She chided him later that night, trying not to giggle.

Empty Chinese food boxes and bottles of beer were strewn about the living room. They'd gone over the presentation more times than either of them could count, and he was now attempting to improve her stage presence by getting her to do different impressions.

"No no, see, if you want to impress _May_ now, you've got to do it with a completely stone-cold face. Like this," he stood up next to her and smoothed the lines out of his face. "Ladies and Gentlemen of the board," he spoke in a strict monotone. "I'd like to introduce you to the most exciting and revolutionary technologies in home security systems today." He nodded over to Jemma with a straight face, and she had to bite her lip to keep from bursting into laughter again. "You see," he continued, "they'll know it's exciting by the _words_ I use. No need for _intonation_ or _expression_."

"You're awful!" She erupted into a fit of giggles and swatted him on the arm.

He fell back down to the couch and rubbed his arm in mock offense. "Hey! No need to get physical, I'm only helping."

She rolled her eyes joyfully and flopped down next to him. "Sure you are. These are such _wonderful_ tips. I'll be sure to use as little intonation as possible tomorrow."

"Only when talking to May though," Fitz held up a finger. "When you address Coulson, be sure to make it seem like this is the _last_ presentation anyone one Earth will be hearing, it's _that_ important."

"They'll think I have multiple personalities or something," Jemma giggled, taking a sip of her beer. She then leaned towards him and raised an eyebrow. "So tell me, what if _you_ were my audience? What then?" She placed a hand on his knee, and to his surprise left it there.

"Me? Well…" he peered down at her hand quickly, then back up to her smiling face. "Well, all you'd need to do with me is smile and I'd be hooked."

She considered him for a moment. "No, that's far too easy," she said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear to hide her smile.

"It's true," he grinned. "I'm far too easy to impress. It's why they lumped me in to the IT department for the rest of my days. I'd say yes to absolutely anyone with a decent idea and a good personality."

"A good personality is it?" She shook her head with a grin, and turned. She adjusted herself so that her back was leaning against his side and her feet dangled off the arm of the sofa. Her head fell back against his shoulder, and he carefully adjusted his arm so that it was along the back of the couch. She sighed and curled into the cozy position, lifting her beer bottle to her lips.

"Can I ask you a question?" Fitz said after a few minutes.

"Absolutely," she took a sip. "Fire away."

"What did you see your life like when you graduated? You said you were in Bio-Chem?"

She sighed. "Oh I don't know. I had a million questions back then. I wanted to see the world, help people. I guess that's what brought me to America. All those bright-eyed things young people hope to achieve before life gets in the way."

"Cheers to that," Fitz clinked his bottle to hers. She looked at him sideways. "So what happened?"

"Well," she sighed. "It took me a while to find a job at first. But that's no surprise, it took everyone a while then. Except Skye. She was one of the lucky ones. But me, I joined the masses of the unemployed and over-educated, and took any job that would have me, really."

"What made you stay?"

She considered silently for a moment, then said, "my parents."

"Not welcoming?"

"No, it's not that," she said, swinging her legs back to the front of the couch. "They'd take me back in a heartbeat, it's just… Well. They always had very high expectations of me." She looked at Fitz. "They're both doctors, and pushed me to excel. I enjoyed it, really. At the time. I always got the top grades in class. Finished my degrees at a young age. Everyone expected me to save the world, and I guess I kind of thought I should too." She took another sip of beer and shrugged. "Maybe it's my pride more than anything, but how can I go back to them with my tail between my legs when they had such high hopes for me?"

Fitz nodded slowly, looking down at his hands. "I know what you mean there."

"Your parents high achievers as well?"

"Well, not particularly," he shook his head. "It's always been me and my mum for as long as I could remember. She's the hardest worker I know, and very supportive. She never expected much of me other than that I would do my best," he sighed. "It wasn't until one of my teachers came up to her and told her exactly what my best _was_ that she realized I needed a better education," he paused and took a sip. "She was proud, sure, but I know affording the new school nearly broke her." Fitz sighed heavily and brought his shoulders up next to his ears. "Then Gran died, and she left us some money. More than we expected, actually. And being the grateful son I am, I decided to bugger off to America to find my fortune," he said, dropping his shoulders again. "Same as you, though, I don't have the heart to tell her the bargain didn't pay off. No jobs and no money to be had. The tragedy is that of course I love it here now. It feels like home. She made some good investments though, so she helps out by sending her 'care packets' for me to make rent." Jemma nodded, understanding, but Fitz stood and began to pace. "Of course now she's got it into her head that she's coddling me, though. She's said the care packets are going to stop in the New Year so that I'm forced to live up to my potential."

"Oh, Fitz." Jemma said. "Can't you talk with her?"

He chuckled. "Wouldn't that be the thing?" He sat back down on the couch next to her. "Do you ever wish you could just skip forward a bit? Like this isn't the life you're supposed to be living, that you're meant to do so much more? I'd give anything to happen upon a time machine or something and just… see what I'm doing a few Christmases from now. See if I get it right eventually…" Fitz gazed distantly ahead in silence.

After a few minutes, Jemma leaned into him. "Well. For what it's worth," she sighed, "I know you're destined for far greater things than just the IT department."

"Thanks," the corner of his eyes crinkled. "You too, Jemma. I'm sure Shield won't be complete idiots and will keep you on. It'd be nice having you around the office," he smiled, lingering on her eyes probably longer than he should.

"Yeah?" She blushed, and he couldn't help but admire how beautiful it made her.

"Yeah," he looked down. "I know I'm not the only one that'd miss you if you were sent back."

He lifted his eyes, and she was staring back at him. They stayed like that for a few moments, and Fitz felt his heart start beating faster in his chest. His mind began to race. As in other moments of stress, he began to calculate. He calculated the distance between them. He calculated the exact velocity needed for him to casually lean forward and close that distance. He calculated the time it would take for him to reach for her face without ruining the moment. He calculated the pressure he would need to softly place his lips against hers. But in the time it took him to do all of the calculations, she looked away and stood, rubbing her hands up and down her arms.

"Do you by any chance want a hot chocolate?" She asked. "I'm beginning to feel a bit chilled."

"Sure," he said, releasing a heavy breath. "Absolutely, hot chocolate sounds nice."

"And why don't you start one of those Doctor Who Christmas Specials while I get it ready? I think we've earned our break, don't you?"

* * *

 **JEMMA**

Jemma pulled the blanket up over her chin and inhaled deeply, letting the sleep wash away from her in the dim morning light. She lifted her hips slightly, and felt a warm body pressed against her back. An arm draped over her waist, and it absently pulled her closer when she moved.

She opened her eyes, remembering. She and Fitz must have fallen asleep on the couch watching Christmas specials. She lifted her head slightly. He had one arm tucked beneath a pillow on the couch behind her, and the other was wrapped around her, his hand clutching the hem of her shirt beneath the blanket. She smiled faintly. She should probably wake him.

Before she could think any further, though, his hand began to move softly against the skin of her stomach, his fingertips drawing sleepy circles just above the hem of her jeans. It felt very nice. She turned her face towards him on the couch. His eyes were still closed. He looked so peaceful, the hint of a smile on his lips. He didn't appear to be awake.

She moved her hand to his shoulder and shook it gently. His eyebrows furrowed as he began to wake. He buried his face in her shoulder and clutched her hip tighter, his fingertips grazing just beneath the hem of her jeans. Her breath hitched, and he froze. He lifted his head to face her. His eyes immediately focused when they saw her staring back. He looked down at her from the pillow, and his breaths grew deeper, realizing their faces were inches apart.

"Good morning," she breathed, smiling.

He licked his lips and smiled back. "Morning," he grumbled.

She could feel her heart racing, and was sure he could feel it too. His hand was still pressed firmly against her skin, and she held her breath, wondering what he would do next. His eyes glanced down at his hand with apprehension and fear, not entirely sure how they'd ended up in this position. But when she smiled up at him beneath her lashes with a blazing look, longing etched into his sleepy face and his eyes held hers. He shifted slightly. They were far too close now. She lifted her face, brushing her nose against his in a silent pleading nod.

He swallowed audibly, then reached out and tentatively pushed his hand further down her waist, pressing it beneath her jeans. Then beneath the silky fabric of her underwear. She tilted her chin up in anticipation as his hand moved deeper, but he held her bright gaze and let his fingers linger against her hot skin for a moment. She bit her lip, and he slowly pushed down.

Then a loud bang came from the stairs. They both jumped apart and sat up on the couch.

"It's okay, it's just me," Skye grumbled from the stairs. "Don't let me interrupt anything! Just grabbing coffee." She stumbled around the corner through to the kitchen, covering her eyes. Jemma stood immediately and straightened her clothes. Fitz stayed seated on the couch, his head resting in his hands.

"Skye," Jemma snapped, glaring at her friend. "Skye! Open your eyes and don't be such a prat."

The girl moved her pinky down and peered between her fingers. "You sure I'm not interrupting anything? I can leave and come back again."

Jemma rolled her eyes. "Absolutely not. We just, ah…"

"Where is the bathroom, actually?" Fitz stood from the couch, his hands in his pockets.

"Just around the corner there. Same as last night…" Skye said as he sprinted down the hallway. She turned her cheeky grin to her roommate who was busying herself folding the big blanket.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Don't look at you like what?" Skye shrugged with glee. "I'm not looking at anyone like anything. What would possibly make my face look anything other than innocent on this beautiful December morning?"

"Nothing happened."

Skye held back a beaming smile and nodded. "Yeah. You just stayed up all night chatting. That's all right?"

"Exactly!" Jemma countered defensively. "We must have fallen asleep watching Christmas specials. Nothing hap- Will you _stop_ that?"

"Sure. Well you tell _nothing_ that you've gotta move fast to catch the train. You do have a presentation this morning still, don't you?"

"Oh god," Jemma brushed the hair back out of her face. "What time is it?"

"8:30. You've got time. Unlike me, who has the rest of the week off to do whatever I please until the party..."

"8:30? Why didn't you wake us?!"

"Excuse me for giving you some much-deserved privacy!" Skye placed her hands on her hips. "You'll be fine. The presentation's not until 10 anyways, right?"

"Yes, but I need to get changed, and then have to set up, and… Fitz!" Jemma shouted. "We have to move!"

The two raced down to the train station and stood, waiting with the rest of the morning commuters. They stared anywhere but at each other in an awkward silence. When the train finally arrived, they stepped through the doors and found a place to stand, holding onto the pole. After a few stops, she glanced up at him shyly, only to catch him staring back at her. He smiled. Jemma felt a wave of relief wash through her and actually began to feel a little giddy.

"See? I told you we'd be fine," he said, nudging her shoulder. "We even made the earlier train. No need to be so stressed out."

"I'm so sorry for making you rush like that," she blushed. "I just get so panicked when it comes to things like this."

"Don't apologize," he said. "You've got plenty of reasons to be nervous, but this isn't one of them. We're almost there, and we'll get in with lots of time to spare. We'll grab coffee and tea at the cart, and then you can relax until the presentation starts. You have all your cue cards?"

She nodded to the laptop bag. "They're in here." She let out a deep breath. "You're right. It will all go well. Positive thinking. No need to be nervous. I've got this."

"You'll do great," he beamed. "Trust me."

Jemma smiled back, melting under the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. "Coffee!" she suddenly cried.

"What?"

"Your coffee," she explained. "You can't get in to work and have the coffee there. You hate it. I owe you something better than that."

"Jem, you don't owe me anything for-"

"For fixing my laptop against all odds? For helping me make the presentation at least twice as good as it would have been?" She shook her head. "This is bound to get me the promotion, so I think a coffee is the least that I owe you. Here, hold this," she said, thrusting the laptop bag at him. "I'm getting off at the next stop and I'll be back with your favourite. No arguments."

"Jemma, don't. I can live with the regular stuff for a day, and those lineups can get pretty long. It's not worth it."

"Nonsense, I said no arguments. Like you said, we're early. It won't take forever, and you can just set up the presentation if I run behind. You know it well enough anyway."

"Jemma-" he warned.

But the doors opened and she was off into the snow before he could stop her. Wasn't everyone always telling her to take more chances in life? To go after the things that were important? She was feeling invigorated this morning, and needed to let off some steam. Maybe it was the nerves talking, but she would not be able to just sit in her office for an hour waiting for the presentation to start.

When she got to the coffee shop, she didn't let the long lineup deter her. She had plenty of time, and this was what she had expected. Even when the woman in front of her threw a fit and demanded that her the ten complicated lattes be remade, Jemma didn't bat an eyelid. She still had a forty minutes, and the office was only a few blocks away.

She was more concerned, however, when she finally exited the shop with her two coffees and tried to maneuver through the crowds. How had the street suddenly become teeming with shoppers? Hadn't people done their shopping yet? Christmas was only seven days away after all!

It was a series of stops and starts, ducking and weaving as shoppers rushed by or randomly turned to race into a shop ahead. She looked at her watch. Twenty-five minutes to ten. This was impossible. She glanced down the street, and thanked the stars when she saw the steps leading to the subway. It would be faster than walking through this mess. She pulled out her phone and sent Fitz a quick text.

Jemma: (9:37) _Slight delay, but on my way. Shouldn't be long now._

She slipped her phone back in her purse and turned towards the stairs, just as a pedestrian jumped into her path. Coffee spilled all down the front of her crisp white jumper, and she cringed. She tried desperately to hold onto her good mood, even as the shopper snapped at her for being in the way. It was fine. There was still time. She shook herself off and raced down the stairs. She hopped onto the train just as the doors were closing, and allowed herself a moment to relax. It would all be smooth sailing from here on out. She was only two stops away.

Somewhere between the next stop and her destination, Jemma was doing everything she could to keep her mind from spiraling out of control. The driver's frequent updates that there was an unexpected delay due to track-level injury did not help the trains move any faster. She had tried to send Fitz another desperate message asking him if he could reschedule the presentation for her, but her reception was patchy, being stuck underground between stations. Her phone said the message had sent, but she hadn't heard back from him yet. Pacing didn't help. She fiddled with her watch again, and finally looked down at it. Only then did she concede defeat. Only then did she let it sink in that this was, in fact, her nightmare. It was 10:49. She had missed the presentation.


	3. One Week To Christmas

**JEMMA**

Jemma ran. She didn't care that her shoes were caked with slush or that it meant taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. She ran without stopping and knocked impatiently on the door.

After a minute that dragged on for eternity, the door opened with a weary creak. Coulson stood with his phone to his ear, and looked at her with a creased brow. Her chest tightened, but he nodded for her to enter his office. With a bowed head, she stepped inside and waited as he walked back behind his desk.

"I'm sorry, I've got to cut you off there, Mike," Coulson said pleasantly. "Mind if I give you a call back in a few minutes?" He flashed his eyes up at Jemma. "Great. Alright. Say hi to the kid for me." He pressed a button on his phone, placed it on the desk, and gave her a measured look. "Well?"

She inhaled then took an anxious step forward. "Mr. Coulson, I want to apologize for missing the presentation this morning." She pressed her hands to her sides to keep from fidgeting. "Situations beyond my control interfered and I-" she stopped herself. "Well, I certainly have no excuse. This presentation was the sole purpose of my contract, and I should have been there to present to the board."

"You certainly should have," Coulson frowned.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Is there any possibility of you giving me another chance? I know the board are very busy, but the presentation is important and I am prepared to come in at any time. If we could reschedule I know I-"

Coulson held up a hand to stop her. "It's okay Miss. Simmons. We're all aware of how much effort you put into the presentation. To be honest, we were all very impressed."

"Oh!" She said, raising her eyebrows. "You were? But how-"

"Mr. Fitz stood in for you. Don't worry, it all went over very well with the board," Coulson explained. "Gonzales even seems convinced to put funding into a revamped innovations department."

"Well. That is good news…"

"I must say I was pleased to see Fitz stepping up," Coulson nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. "I always had the feeling there was more to him than he was letting on."

"Yes. Very good. Glad it all worked out then."

"So. If that's all?" He tapped his desk near his phone, and Jemma shook her head quickly.

"Oh yes, sorry for interrupting sir," she turned around and grasped the door handle.

"And Miss Simmons?" He said before she could walk through the door. She turned back around and paused. "It's been great having you around the office these past few weeks. You really brought a breath of fresh air to the place. I hope to see you at the party later."

Jemma nodded, pressing the corners of her mouth into a hopefully painless smile. "Thank you, Sir." After a moment of silence, she realized she had already been dismissed, so she abruptly turned and exited the office.

* * *

 **FITZ**

The message on his screen stared back at him, accusing him. His head was still buzzing from the stress of the entire morning. He'd acted on instinct. At the time it seemed like the right thing to do, but what did he know?

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, and Fitz held his breath. It had to be Jemma's face that appeared around the corner. He pushed away from his desk quickly and stood to greet her. She looked so tired, but smiled when she saw him. Without stopping, she ran right around the counter and gave him a big hug. He hugged her back.

"I'm _so_ sorry," she said. "There was a delay on the subway and I couldn't get a message out in time and-"

"It's fine, glad you're okay," Fitz waved her off.

"Okay? I'm far from okay," Jemma blanched. "I just saw Coulson and he did _not_ seem pleased with me." Fitz dropped his eyes as she carried on. "There's still time, though. I'm sure I'll figure out some other way to get the promotion and stay in the country," her mouth twitched into an optimistic smile.

"Yeah," Fitz frowned. "That is, well, they-" Fitz furrowed his eyebrows, not sure how to say what he needed to say.

"He sounded very impressed with _you_ though," Jemma grinned. "Maybe this'll convince them to finally give you a raise so you won't have to worry about your mum anymore."

He looked down at her, crestfallen. He opened his mouth, but no words came to his lips.

She quirked her head at him. "Fitz?"

"Leopold!" A booming voice echoed from down the hall. Fitz flinched and craned his neck around the corner. "Come give your Mother a hug now, don't be leaving me standing with a chill in this foreign land!"

Fitz gaped. "Mum?" Unable to believe what his eyes were showing him, Fitz blinked. "What are you doing here?"

"I caught an earlier flight, lad, I didn't grow two heads," his mum chortled. "Now stop gaping like a fish and come let me have a look at you."

He shot Jemma a pained expression, then stepped down the hallway towards the small woman waiting with open arms and bags strewn about her.

"You're all skin and bones, lad," she remarked, embracing him. "I thought they had a problem with obesity over here. Aren't you getting enough to eat?" She held him out at arm's length and pinched his cheek. He twisted away. "You didn't develop an eating disorder from those flashy magazines they have here, did you?" She nodded knowingly to Jemma, "I've read it's a more common thing among young men nowadays. They're just too proud to say anything about it, afraid to harm their delicate egos."

"Mum, I'm eating fine," Fitz placed his hands on his hips defensively. "How did you get _here_ , though? When did you land?"

"Oh not even a moment to settle in and he's already going on with the questions," she raised her hands in the air. "Not to worry, son, I got in not long ago," she patted his arm and started sifting through her purse. "Found me a nice cab driver and got him to take me straight here to surprise you."

"Mum, you didn't have to do all that," Fitz rolled his eyes. "You know I booked a whole day off to come get you from the airport and show you around."

Mrs. Fitz pulled a lipstick out of her bag and started applying it with a small mirror. "And where would the surprise in that have been?"

"Yeah, but I have work today, and-" His mother closed her compact mirror with a snap, cutting him off.

"Oh hush lad. Now will you tell me who's this fine young beauty here, Leopold?" His mum turned to Jemma and placed a hand on her arm. "You haven't got a lady friend you've been hiding from me, have you? Come introduce us. I didn't raise you in a barn."

Fitz scratched the top of his head in defeat. "Ah, Mum," he gestured helplessly, "this is my co-worker Jemma." Jemma smiled at him, enjoying this all too much for his liking. She turned to his mother.

"Hello Mrs. Fitz. It's so lovely to meet you."

"Ah, an Englishwoman!" The older woman threw her hands in the air again. "I always knew he had a rebellious side to him," she swatted Fitz's arm. "It's just like that time I sent him off to Sunday school as a boy. He had on this new jumper I'd made him that he couldn't _stand_ -"

"Mum!" Fitz yelped. "Can we not?"

"Right, lad, right," his mother simpered. "Another time perhaps." She turned her cheeky grin to Jemma, whispering loudly. "So sensitive sometimes, it's a wonder the boy can function."

Just then the phone rang, and Fitz grabbed it like a lifeline. But his face paled and he nodded into the receiver. "I mean yes, I absolutely did." He paused. "I was hoping to discuss it later next week actually-. My mum just stopped in early and-" He waited, looking between Jemma and his mother. He turned away from them and let out a long, deflated breath. "No, I completely understand. Yes. Thank You. I appreciate it." He hung up.

"Well?" His mum chirped. "Something important?"

"Ahm. No," he said, glancing at Jemma and bringing his hands absently up to his waist. "It can wait. Mum, you must be starving. It's pretty slow now so I can take you for a quick lunch and get you settled."

"I wouldn't say no to a hearty stew," Mrs. Fitz puffed up. "Will you be joining us for a quick kip to eat then, Jemma?"

"That sounds lovely, thank you though Mrs. Fitz," Jemma declined. "But I'm afraid I have some last paper work to finish up before I head out. I promised my flat-mate I'd help set up the holiday party this afternoon. Will I see you there?" She looked at Fitz hopefully.

"Well I wasn't planning on-" Fitz flinched as his mum whacked him on the shoulder with her handbag. "I mean absolutely. Yeah. We'll both be there."

* * *

 **JEMMA**

"You know you didn't have to help out with all this," Skye said as she whisked by with a wrapped plate of hors d'oeuvres.

"No, I absolutely did," Jemma said, following with her clipboard. "Might as well get a few last brown-nosing points in while I still can, yeah?"

"I still can't believe you missed it," Skye shook her head, placing the plate down on one of the side tables and pulling the tinfoil off. "Was Coulson furious?"

"That's the terrifying thing. He was glad the presentation went well. He was just disappointed in me."

"Ugh, that's so much worse!"

"Tell me about it," Jemma shook her head. "You're sure there's nothing else you can swing on your end to give me a push for this promotion?"

Skye looked at the plate, then shifted it slightly. She sighed. "I may be HR, but I'm not that high up," Skye brushed her hands clean and moved to another table, picking up a poinsettia. "But don't worry, we'll think of something. They're not kicking you out of the country because of a stupid train delay."

"I wouldn't hold your breath," Jemma sighed.

Skye placed the big red flowers next to a wide candle holder and frowned. "Hold on, no! Give me that," she picked up the shiny object to examine it. "Is it seven blue candles or nine? I keep mixing these up."

"It's nine blue candles for Hanuka, and a total of seven red, green and purple for Kwanzaa," Jemma consulted her clip-board.

"Dammit! I got too many purple candles and not enough blue," Skye looked around the room anxiously. "Do you think people would be insulted if we just combined them?"

"Yes. I do think they might," Jemma tilted her head.

"Right. Okay. We can fix this," Skye rolled her shoulders and cracked her knuckles. "Hunter!" She called out. "Dig out the gold spray paint! People will be here soon!" She marched away past the Secret Santa table, narrowly missing tipping the small Christmas tree off it.

"If there's nothing else, I'm just going to go get ready then," Jemma called after to her. When she heard no protest, she grabbed her bag and headed for the toilets.

Jemma pulled her new dress on and adjusted her makeup. She looked at herself in the mirror, and couldn't help but give herself a satisfied nod. This would do. One must be at their best when attending a business function. Her mother recited that to her on numerous occasions. The saying went equally for acting proper and looking presentable. She looked more than presentable.

When she reached back to put her work clothes away, she saw the small gift box she'd brought sitting at the bottom of her pack. Tapping her finger against the wrapping, she examined it. She still wasn't sure if it was entirely appropriate for a Secret Santa gift. It was far too sentimental. But then, she reasoned, no one else at the party would quite understand why. She smiled and tucked it back into her bag for later. It required explanation. She could wait.

One of the first guests to arrive was a tall, elegant blond woman that Jemma didn't recognize. Taking a sip of her champagne for liquid courage, Jemma sidled over to continue her attempt at networking. If nothing else, perhaps a good impression at the Christmas party would garner her a full-time position, or at least an extension of her contract.

"Welcome," she said, offering her hand enthusiastically. "Jemma Simmons."

"Ah, the infamous Jemma Simmons," the woman said, shaking her hand with a firm but friendly grip. "I'm Bobbi Morse. Congratulations on your presentation earlier, by the way."

"Goodness, were you there for that?"

"I was," she smiled. "It was a shame you couldn't make it, but your partner made quite the impression," she nodded. "Gonzales was thoroughly impressed, and he doesn't impress easily."

"He's not my partner actually," Jemma explained. "Just a friend helping out."

"Really?" Bobbi tilted her head in confusion. "I thought he was a Shield employee."

"Well yes, he is," Jemma stammered, "but we worked on it together is all. As a favour. As friends…"

"Well that's a relief," Bobbie laughed. "Gonzales said the team presenting today were in the running for the new position if they impressed him. We already put the paperwork through for the job offer, so that would have been embarrassing."

Jemma froze. "Job offer?"

"For head of the innovations department," Bobbi clarified. "Offered it on the spot, as a matter of fact. That's how impressed he was."

"Oh," Jemma felt the blood drain from her face and a distinct buzzing filled her ears. "Actually, will you excuse me for a moment?" She stepped back, stumbling a little on her heels. "Just remembered something I need to take care of…"

Jemma rushed away, her vision blurring and her breath growing shallow. It all made sense. No wonder he'd been so distant earlier before his mum came. She grabbed a glass of champagne as a waiter walked by with it, and downed it all in one gulp. Then she grabbed another.

* * *

 **FITZ**

"Will you stop fussing? I look fine," Fitz said, swatting his mum's hands away from his tie.

"There's a difference between looking fine and looking good, lad," his mother huffed, adjusting her bag under her arm. They were in the foyer of the venue, waiting for the coat check girl to bring them their tickets.

"You haven't even commented on my dress yet," his mum sighed.

"You're beautiful, mum, as always."

"Well yes, _I_ know that," she grinned to herself. "Just nice to hear it every so often is all."

The young girl finally appeared at the counter from the back of the coat room and handed them their tickets with a snap of her gum. Mrs. Fitz dug into her wallet and placed a bill in the jar on the counter. "Here you go dear. Have a Happy Christmas!" The girl stared at her blankly, and Fitz steered his mother away to the main room. "You know, I don't think she earned that tip," whispered loudly over her shoulder. "I've a mind to go and ask for it back!"

"Mum, they've already started serving the mince tarts. You don't want to miss any of those, do you?"

"This is true," she sighed as they walked into the grand room. "My goodness, will you look at this place, Leopold? So posh!"

Fitz looked around anxiously, hands absently adjusting his tie. He had never come to one of these events before, but he had to agree with his mother. Candles shone from inside the party room, and different coloured boughs were hung from the rafters. He couldn't quite believe how glitzy it all was.

"Grab me something good from the bar then, son," his mother said, smoothing out her dress. "I'm off to find me some mistletoe."

Fitz sighed and walked through the clumps of his mingling co-workers. He was surprised at how few he really knew. Had he really been around all these people for so many years? Fitz found the lineup for the bar and stood patiently, keeping an eye out for his mother.

He found himself staring into the crowd at the back of a woman's head, and blushed furiously. To say she was well proportioned and wearing an outfit that flaunted it was putting it mildly. This was why he didn't come to these things. It was probably going to be Nettie from accounts, and then he'd never be able to look at her the same. The woman turned, glanced around the room and brought her crimson lips to her champagne glass, taking a long sip. Fitz' mouth fell open. It was Simmons.

"Next!"

The person behind him pushed Fitz forward, and he stumbled, looking up at the bartender in bewilderment.

"What'll it be?"

"Right. Sorry," Fitz recovered. "Two Scotches, one tonic soda please," he muttered, handing the man his drink vouchers.

Fitz grumbled internally. Seeing Jemma like this did not make things any easier. He trundled off with his drinks to find a table and wait for the long excruciating night to end.

Skye had just announced that they would begin the Secret Santa exchange in about twenty minutes, so people better get their presents to the table if they hadn't already, then make their way back to their seats.

Fitz took a long drink from his glass of scotch and patted the envelope in his pocket. He should really go bring it up there. He'd gone to all the trouble, anyway. He sighed and stood, making his way through the many tables in the candle light. Someone tapped his shoulder as he placed the envelope beneath a small box. He spun around.

"And there you are," Jemma said, looking at him through her eyelashes. She stood with her feet planted, swirling her glass of champagne around. God she looked amazing.

"Yeah, we made it," he said, bringing his hands to his hips. "Mum's around somewhere. Kind of lost track."

"Yeah, she looks like she's having a good time," Jemma said, nodding over to where his mum was.

"Right," he rubbed the back of his neck. "I feel kind of bad for not warning Coulson about her. She can be a bit pushy when she decides she wants something."

Jemma clicked her tongue, and Fitz quickly turned his head to look down at her.

"You look nice," Fitz said with a smile.

"Thank you. Happy to hear about your promotion," she said, downing her glass of champagne. He dropped his mouth open.

"I-I was about to tell you," he turned his body to face her. "Honestly, the words were on the tip of my tongue earlier, but mum showed up, and…"

"Fitz please," she narrowed her eyes at him. "You couldn't have asked them to reschedule?"

"I didn't get your message until it was already over," he tried to explain.

"Right. Fine," she turned and grabbed another glass of champagne as a waitress walked by. "So, are you going to take it?"

"I…" he looked perplexed. "I haven't decided yet."

She gaped at him. Then turned to walk away.

"I didn't mean that. Jemma, wait!"

She stopped mid-stride and he nearly walked into her. "I can't believe that you're snaking this out from under me," she turned, stabbing a finger into his chest. "After everything we worked on together. I should have known no two people could get that close that fast without one of them having an ulterior motive." She took another drink.

"There was no ulterior motive, Jemma," he said through gritted teeth, aware of people starting to stare. "I just tried to cover for you, and yeah, you're right, I should've got them to reschedule, but I panicked!" He held his hands out. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

" _Clearly_ you were wrong," she said, her voice growing shrill.

"Yeah, obviously I can see that _now_ , but will you look at it from my perspective?"

" _Your_ perspective?" She laughed darkly. "Your perspective has you coasting along in your mediocre job for years while mummy looks after you," she said, raising her voice. " _Your_ perspective has you taking advantage of the easiest route to a promotion as soon as it comes along, skipping months of preparation for it. Your perspective doesn't have you getting _kicked out of the country!_ "

"Well I'm sorry that you think I'm such a disappointment to society, Jemma," Fitz countered, his temper rising. "But _you're_ not quite the pathetic victim you fancy yourself to be. You could have avoided this whole mess if you'd been invested in the presentation to begin with," he threw his hands up. "For god's sake, it's 2015! Who doesn't keep _backups_?"

"And what kind of IT person loses an entire hard-drive, _moments_ after it's given to him?" She stepped closer, tilting her chin up defiantly.

" _You_ decided to get off the train early, I _warned_ you not to!"

"You're right," she spat. "It's entirely my own fault. I should never have accepted your help with _any_ of this. I should have stuck to my initial plan and done it all on my own. I can't believe I ever thought there might be something between us. It was a _complete_ mistake letting you spend the night!"

Someone suddenly cleared their throat, and the two stopped, looking up angrily. Skye, Coulson and Fitz' mother stared back, mouths open. Skye glanced around awkwardly, and it was only then that they realized the entire party had turned to stare at their shouting match.

Jemma flushed crimson and put a hand on her forehead, looking down. Fitz turned and faced the audience. "That's not what it- I mean, nothing- Oh lord…"

Jemma rolled her eyes, then turned and scurried down the hall.

Fitz looked around the room again, then ducked through the crowd. "Jemma!" He raced after her.

He found her outside the coat room, looking down at her phone and waiting outside the little window. She saw him march towards her, and turned away in a huff to ring the bell for service.

He got closer and she tapped her foot.

"Jemma."

"These bloody coat room people," she snapped. "They're never around when you need them!" She grumbled and rang the bell again, repeatedly, craning her neck into the window. "Hello? You have a customer here! Bloody waste of a dollar."

"Jemma, will you just- Oh hell, _now_ what are you doing?"

She had hoisted herself onto the ledge of the counter and swung her legs round.

"I," she huffed, "Am going home, _Leopold_."

"But you can't-" he started. She glared at him. "I mean, don't you think you've had a little too much… I mean, you shouldn't drive in the state you're in."

She glared again and hopped down to the other side. "Which is why I sent for a taxi," she said, finishing her champagne and placing her glass on the counter next to her phone. She turned on her heel and started rummaging through the coats. "Why are these all the bloody same? Honestly, do the shops _only_ sell black coats at winter?" She started pulling coats off their racks and tossing them in a pile as a process of elimination.

He rolled his eyes and hopped in after her.

"I don't need your help," she hissed as he grabbed her coat from one of the racks and held it out to her.

"Jemma, will you stop? I have something to say."

She stood her ground and crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine then. Before I'm _deported_ , say your pointless thing so you can take my job with a clear conscience."

He clenched his jaw, then opened his mouth.

"I am sorry that this sucks for you. I really am," he said. "But I'm _not_ sorry that I got to know you. I'm not sorry that I spent the night. I thought there might've been something between us too, but…" He took a deep breath and shook his head. "I _can't_ anymore, Jemma. I worked day and night to fix that laptop. I went out of my way to make sure your presentation went off without a hitch, despite all the shit that got in the way. And if after all of that-" He turned away and his expression hardened. "If you honestly think I'm the sort of person that would sabotage your career for personal gain, then maybe you're not the person I thought you were either."

He let out a long breath and dropped his hands to his hips, waiting for her to respond. Jemma glared up at him, then took a step forward.

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his neck. She pulled him in and pressed her lips to his angrily. He didn't have a moment to think what was happening before her tongue thrust its way into his mouth. He immediately grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer. She nipped at his bottom lip, and he stumbled forwards, pushing her into the wall of coats. He clutched the side of her face and kissed her hungrily. She pushed back against him and started fumbling at the buttons on his trousers. He grabbed her wrist to stop her and brought it over her head, pinning it against the wall. She looked back at him, eye blazing, chest heaving.

"Go on," she breathed. "You want to."

He looked down at her, and she lifted her leg against his, wrapping it around him, pushing her hips against him. She leaned forward and brushed her nose along the side of his face.

He gulped and held his eyes tightly closed as she pressed hot kisses into his temple, licking out with her tongue and snaking her fingers through his hair. She had moved down to his jawline before he finally managed to get hold of himself.

He pulled his face away and looked her in straight the eye. "Not like this." It took all his strength to push away and leave her standing there.

She stood against the wall for a few minutes, staring at him in confusion. He looked back, a crease forming in his brow as he panted and tried to think of something else to say. Then, naturally, her phone buzzed.

They both blinked, taking a moment to realize what the noise was. She then stepped quietly past him towards the counter and looked at her phone. "Taxi's here," she said softly.

He nodded, then turned and picked up her coat, holding it out for her.

She looked down again, and opened her mouth like she was going to say something, but then thought better of it. She brushed her hands over her forehead, then straightened her dress. She grabbed her coat from him without making eye contact and slipped quickly away. He didn't turn back around until he was sure she was gone. Then he took a deep breath, leaned against the wall and sunk down to the floor.


	4. One Week From Christmas

**JEMMA**

"Hi Mum, Hi Dad," Jemma croaked, managing to smile into the camera on her laptop.

"How is America, Jemma darling?" Her mother's face craned into the frame. "You look terrible!"

Jemma pressed her lips together and glanced over to the small image of herself at the corner of her screen. Her mother wasn't wrong. Her hair was ratted and even she could see the bags under her eyes. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Yes, well I've got a bit of a flu unfortunately."

"Be sure to take your Zinc tablets, and get lots of rest, darling," her mum said with a sympathetic look. "You don't need me to ship over any of my home remedies, do you?"

"No that's fine, I'm sure it will clear up in no time," Jemma deflected. "Your presents finally arrived today."

"Better late than never anyways," her dad huffed, taking up most of the screen. "Bloody post. It's always the same this time of year. At least they didn't lose things this time."

Jemma smiled, her heart tugging as she realized how much she missed them sometimes. She really was terribly far away. "Thanks for the book Dad. And Mum, the jumper is really lovely."

"Glad to hear you like it love. How's the job search coming along?"

"Fine," she glanced away. "I've got a few leads-"

"Should we be clearing out your old room? You know that Visa is almost up and you don't want to be arrested as an illegal immigrant in _America_ of all places. If you can't find something by the end of the year, we'll just go ahead and book your ticket if you like."

"I, well-"

"I had your room converted already, JemJem, but you won't mind the new carpets I'm sure," her Dad continued, leaning into the microphone. "The new poker motif is very stylish these days I hear. We can change it back to horses though if you'd rather."

"That's fine, Dad. I-I'll let you know as soon as I hear," she said quietly.

"What was that dear? John look, she's frozen again. Jemma? **Jemma**? Can you hear us?"

"Mum?"

"Oh there you are, we can hear you at least. But the picture's still not working right. Did you put your arm on the thing again, John?"

"I did not, woman."

"No, you did, the- what do you call these things? John, will you just do as I ask and move your arm?"

Jemma sighed as her parents nudged at each other and tapped at the computer screen. It was moments like these that reminded her why she was putting so much effort into her career. "Actually Mum, I'd really better get going now-"

"Right dear. You go rest up," her mother nodded. "Don't mind us. Give us a proper call when you're feeling better, yeah?"

"Absolutely. Bye Mum, bye Dad."

Jemma shut her laptop and leaned forward on the couch, resting her head in her hands.

"The flu?" Skye said dryly. "Now you're lying to your parents?"

"24 Hour flu anyways," Jemma said, picking up her mug of eggnog and pulling her box of chocolates back into her lap. The living room was littered with empty tissue boxes and candy wrappers. She had remained in her pajamas for almost an entire week.

"I think that only counts if it's been 24 hours, Jem, not a few days."

Jemma shrugged and bit into what turned out to be a caramel nougat. "Well I do feel rotten either way, so it wasn't a complete lie. Despite the greeting, Skye, not everyone _has_ to have a Merry Christmas. Just let me grovel in peace."

Skye sighed. "I did that. But now you're starting to get a smell, and I'm embarrassed to have people over." She pushed a pile of tissues and wrappers to the floor to carve out a seat next to her roommate. "Jemma, you have to at least get up off this couch."

"Says who?"

"Says me! And the calendar," Skye gestured. "You have work tomorrow, or did you forget?"

Jemma groaned and threw the blanket over her face. "I'm not going," she cried. "Not after the way I behaved!"

"Okay, I admit the party was bad. But Jemma, no one will remember," Skye said, pulling the blanket back down. "It's a holiday party. Things like that happen every year. It's pretty much required."

"Not with me, though. Not when I had a promotion and I botched it and made a fool of myself and have to run crying back to mummy and daddy!" Jemma sobbed. "My life's a wreck, Skye! How did this happen?"

Skye sighed and pulled her friend into her arm, rubbing her shoulder to soothe her. "Look. Things always seem really terrible until they're not. You just haven't reached the 'not' part yet."

"Is that supposed to be encouraging?" Jemma muttered.

"It's _supposed_ to get you off your ass and into the shower!" Skye pushed her friend away, holding back a smile. Jemma pouted and pulled the blanket up over her head again and curled into a ball. Skye stood and placed her hands on her hips. "If you really feel _that_ crappy, you have to face the music and actually _do_ something about it. That's what you've always told me." Jemma bobbed her head out of the blanket long enough to stick her tongue out at Skye.

"Fine," she threw her hands in the air in defeat. "Be a child. You still have to go to work tomorrow."

"Tell them I'm sick," Jemma moaned pathetically. She heard a light smack as Skye placed something on the table a little too forcefully.

"Whatever, you're an adult and can make your own decisions," she grumbled. "But when you're ready to come out of there, I've left something here that you should at least look at. You do what you want with it."

"What is it?" Jemma sniffed.

"Something to help you start facing the music," Skye said, her voice growing more distant as she walked away. "Full disclosure, I _may_ have rigged Secret Santa. Just a little. Out of love."

Jemma waited until Skye's footsteps had faded away up the stairs to her bedroom. She then gingerly pulled her head out from beneath the blanket and stared at the small envelope on the table. Her name was written on the front in a familiar scrawl. She glared at it as she picked up her mug and took a sip of egg nog. She decided to ignore it, and instead turned on the television. But the envelope continued to stare back at her.

Finally, she couldn't take it anymore. She grabbed the envelope and ripped it open. A gold necklace tumbled out into her hands. The pendant was spun into a delicate anatomically correct heart. The note inside read:

 _"May your holidays and New Year be full of heart-stopping moments. Love from Your Secret Santa."_

It was so simple. Nothing special, yet absolutely the most precious thing she had held. Jemma felt her eyes well up with tears, and she collapsed sideways onto the couch, clutching a pillow to her chest.

* * *

 **FITZ**

"Will you fetch me my bra from the radiator, son?" Fitz's mum poked her head into his bedroom, and he jolted up from his computer screen.

"Mum! Can you not get it yourself? I'm busy!" He stormed over to the doorway.

"Sure, don't mind me," she turned, throwing her hands in the air. "Don't want to be interrupting _whatever it is_ you're doing there. Just packing up for home is all."

"Okay, great," he called after her sarcastically and closed the door with a bang. It was like he was a teenager again. While it was nice having his mother around, he would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to saying goodbye the next day.

Fitz sat back at his desk and opened the window on his computer again. He'd written and re-written the email almost a hundred times over the past few days. Nothing sounded quite right. He wanted to apologize, but every time he went to type it out, he got angry again. He had nothing to apologize for! Well maybe a few things, but why did he have to be the one to start it? He slammed the computer closed and walked away, pacing.

The door creaked open again. "Everything okay in here? I heard a bang."

"Mum!" He cried out, spinning around angrily.

She gave him a look that made him immediately sit down on the bed. He folded over and buried his head in his hands.

"Son, I'm worried about you," his mum said, walking over and sitting next to him. "You haven't seemed like yourself for the past few days."

"It's nothing, mum. I'm fine."

She rubbed his back gently, then put a hand under his chin and turned his head so he was looking at her. "It's nothing to do with that Jemma girl you were having a row with at the party, does it?"

He rolled his eyes and brushed her hand away. "Mum…"

"What? I'm not supposed to have ears now?" She bristled. "It's not like _no one_ heard, the way you two were going at each other."

Fitz winced and rubbed his eyes with one of his hands.

"Now, I've kept quiet long enough about it, but your moping is doing no one any good," His mum continued. "Have you given her a call?"

"No, Mum, I haven't called her," Fitz groaned. "There's nothing to do, so just leave it, okay?"

"Absolutely not. Now if you want my opinion," she rested a hand on his arm.

"I don't-"

She glared at him and continued anyway. "You've got a good heart, and so does she. So it will sort itself out in the wash," she said simply. "To be honest, I'd have less respect for the girl if she hadn't blown up at you like that, the way you behaved."

"I was only trying to help out!"

"It doesn't matter your intentions, lad," his mother tipped her head. "You don't mess with a woman's career. That's just the end of it."

"But that wasn't what I was doing! At least I didn't think it was. I was just-" Fitz clenched his fists together and took a deep calming breath.

"You care for her don't you?" Fitz faced his mother, not sure what to say. "No need to answer, son, I can see it in your eyes," she patted his leg. "I saw it straight away. You look at that girl like she's all the stars in the universe," she smiled. "It's actually quite something."

Fitz looked down at his feet and let out a long sigh. "It doesn't matter anyways. She doesn't feel the same way."

"And how do _you_ know? Have you asked her?"

"It's not worth it. I've already messed it all up."

"You know," Mrs. Fitz stood slowly. "In my many years of experience, I've always found that if the person's worth it, they'll stick through pretty much anything," she nodded. "Thick, thin, no matter what life throws at you, they'll be by your side to at least tie your shoes. And that goes both ways, son."

Fitz looked at her, and then his hands, pressing his mouth into a thin smile.

"Now," she patted his arm. "Why don't you finish up whatever it was you were doing in here and come have a nice dinner with your mother? I'll even take you to go see that new Space War film you've been on about. How does that sound?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "That sounds nice actually." She walked to the doorway, and he suddenly stood. "Mum?"

"Yes Leopold?"

He walked over to her and gave his mother a long hug. "Thanks. It was great having you here for Christmas."

"Go on and finish up then," his mother smiled, brushing away a damp spot at the corner of her eye. "We've got a busy day tomorrow if you're going to get me to the airport before the New Year."

Fitz grinned as his mother closed the door quietly behind her. He walked back over to his desk and opened the laptop. The email stared back at him. Fitz sighed, then hit delete.

* * *

 **JEMMA**

"It's a little creepy how dead the train gets between the Christmas and New Year," Skye noted.

"Mmhmm," Jemma winced, shielding her eyes from the bright lights.

"It's almost like a zombie apocalypse happened. Or a plague or something. It sucks that we have to come in at all, but I guess them's the breaks when you're at the bottom of the totem pole," Skye said cheerfully. Too cheerfully. "Jemma, you sure you're okay to go in? You still look like a wreck."

"I feel awful, believe me," Jemma took a sip of the gloriously strong coffee from her travel mug. "But like you said, I must face the music at some point. I might as well try to smooth things over and at the very least go out on a high note."

"That's the spirit," Skye nudged her shoulder. "You don't think we'll run into…?"

"No," she said quickly. She pasted a smile on her face. "He took this week off, so no need to worry about that."

After a simple lunch at her desk, Jemma decided it was time to replenish her travel mug at the coffee cart. She'd been avoiding it, but the throbbing in her head was very difficult to argue with.

Just as she was pouring the cream, a voice just behind her shoulder made her jump. "Miss. Simmons, a word in my office." It was May, appearing from thin air apparently.

Jemma centered herself and nodded, attempting her best and most pleasant smile. She closed the lid on her travel mug, took a deep breath and followed the older woman.

Coulson and May were standing in the office waiting for her. Coulson spoke first, barely waiting a beat after May closed the door behind Jemma.

"We need to have a conversation about what happened at the party before the break."

Jemma knew this was coming, but she couldn't help but feel the heat creep suddenly up her neck. "I want to sincerely apologize for what happened," she said, holding her fists tightly by her side to keep from shaking. "I know I made a disgrace of myself, and there's no excuse for my behavior, but if there's anything that I can-"

Coulson waved his hand to stop her. "Trust me, there was a bigger scene last year with Skye and Raina. Kind of par for the course when you agree to an open bar for these things."

"Oh. I suppose," Jemma said, slowly tilting her head in confusion. "Then why-?"

"I received a phone call this morning," Coulson explained. "It was from Mr. Fitz, turning down the new head of innovations position. Just like that." Coulson looked at her carefully. "Did you know anything about that?"

"No, sir. I'm afraid I didn't know," Jemma pressed her lips into a thin line.

Coulson nodded and crossed his hands over his chest. "Because at the party it seemed like there was a bit of animosity between you two," he went on, "and perhaps that's what made him change his mind."

"Mr. Fitz is able to make his own decisions, I'm sure," Jemma said. "Business is business."

Coulson sighed. "I was hoping it was just a small spat. I figured if anyone could convince Fitz to reconsider it would be you."

Jemma pursed her lips, staring straight ahead.

"Well, Gonzales is not going to be happy when I tell him. He was mostly sold on this whole scheme if you two came as a package deal."

"I'm sorry?" Jemma's mouth fell open involuntarily.

"FitzSimmons was the term I think he used," Coulson grinned. "Not that he wasn't impressed with your work on its own, but it was clear to everyone that the presentation wouldn't have been half what it was without both of you working together on it," he explained.

"Together?"

"Mmhmm… Which reminds me that unless you plan on turning us down too, we'll need your contract back soon."

Jemma stared at him, mouth gaping. "Contract?"

Coulson looked between May and Jemma. "What am I missing?"

"I didn't receive a contract, Sir."

"Ah. Well," Coulson stammered. "That probably explains a lot." He looked down at the papers on his desk. "It must have got lost in the shuffle before the holiday…" May rolled her eyes and picked up a piece of paper at the top of one of the many piles. "Right. Yep, there it is," Coulson nodded. "Our most sincere apologies for not being more organized. Here you are."

Jemma looked down at the document. It was her name. Offering her a top position at the company. It was the cushy, stable job she'd been searching for since graduation. It even required use of her background in bio-chem. She was lost for words.

Coulson smiled, then walked around his desk to hand an identical piece of paper over to May. "You'll have to get your team together, Melinda. Looks like we'll need to make a job posting to fill Fitz's spot."

"Hold on a moment," Jemma said quickly. "I think- I think I might be able to talk to Fitz," she looked from Coulson to May hopefully, "see if I can't try one last time before you have to go to all the trouble of finding a replacement. Worth a shot at least, don't you think?"

"That'd be great if you could," Coulson nodded. "We need this put to bed before Gonzales jumps down my throat."

Jemma nodded. She didn't wait to be dismissed before she turned and walked out of the office. She stopped only to grab her coat, then went straight home. She just needed one thing first.

* * *

 **FITZ**

Fitz walked down the street from his car, enjoying the crisp night air. He and his mum had celebrated New Years together on Scottish time that afternoon. He then managed to get her to the airport soon after with only a minimal amount of fuss and tears, all things considered. He was tired and ready to just curl up in his quiet empty apartment with no one to interrupt his thoughts. He opened the gate to his building and walked through the fresh snow that blanketed the courtyard. A slight movement caught his eye, and he turned to see someone leaning against the stone fountain, waiting.

"I've been sitting here trying to work up the courage to knock on your door," Jemma said, fidgeting with a small box in her gloved hands.

"How long have you been here?" He asked. "You look frozen, come on inside."

"No, that's okay. I'm fine," she smiled. Her breath escaped her lips in wisp of cold air. "I met with Coulson and May today," she said.

Fitz shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at the ground. "I ah- I turned down the position."

"I know," she nodded. "Actually, that's why I'm here."

"Did they offer it to you instead then?"

Jemma shrugged. "Sort of."

"Good. You deserve it."

"But the thing is," Jemma took a deep breath. "It was meant to be a package deal. They wanted us both and forgot to give my papers to me until today." She said, fidgeting with the wrapping on the box.

"Oh," he said. He didn't know what else to say.

She smiled thinly and continued. "They said we worked too well as a team. That it wasn't the same if they got one without the other. They want you _and_ me. Both of us," she said. "Together." She looked up at him then. "So. What do you think?"

Fitz drew his brows together, and after a few long moments he had to look away. "You know what I think." He scuffed his boot in the snow. "Perhaps," he took a deep breath in. "Perhaps it's not such a good idea for us to be working together. Mum's right, I should be applying myself more. I've spent the last few days updating my résumé, so I'll see if anything better shakes out."

"But this is your dream job," Jemma said, taking a step towards him. "You'll get to be building and brainstorming, using your degree. Actually making a difference in the world like you wanted."

Fitz shrugged. "Sometimes the things we want aren't always the right choice though, yeah?" He tried not to look at her, but he didn't quite miss how her face fell. "You wouldn't want to be working with me anyways. We'd just start arguing again and blow up at each other eventually."

"But I do want that," Jemma whispered. He looked up at her, but her face was closed off and distant. He let the silence sit for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she looked back at him. "Before, you said you were done trying, and I-" she shook her head. "I can't tell you how sorry I am for how I acted. I probably wouldn't have got this offer at all if it hadn't been for you helping, so, at the very least..." she stepped forward and handed him the box. "Thank you."

He grasped it in his hands, noting that she lingered slightly before slipping her hands back into her coat pockets. "Yeah, thanks," he studied her face. "Should I open this now then?"

"Up to you," she shrugged. "I already got yours," she pointed to the necklace hiding under her scarf. "It was lovely. Really. Thank you."

He nodded, then slowly unwrapped the box, letting the wrapping fall to the snow. It was a snow globe with a blue box inside and a picture frame on the front.

"The Tardis," he grinned.

"It's a bit silly," she waved off. "I just thought – you can use it to keep track of your Christmases. See where you're at each year." Her smile was strained. "I know you'll do great wherever you land." She hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Before he could react, she had turned and begun walking away through the snow.

He looked down at the snow globe in his hands, and then back at her. Large puffy white flakes fell down through the air, already beginning to erase her footprints. He took a deep breath.

"Jemma, wait."

She didn't quite hear him, or else decided not to listen, so he jogged after her. When he put a hand on her shoulder, she finally stopped and turned to face him.

"Maybe… maybe this whole Innovations thing isn't so bad," he said. "I could give it a try maybe. If it's supposed to be a package deal and all."

"Really?" She grinned, trying not to look too hopeful.

"Well, Head of Innovations does have a pretty nice ring to it," he shrugged with a half-smile. "Even if it _is_ a shared position."

"Are-Are you sure you don't mind working with me?" She looked so anxious, it twisted his heart.

"Jemma-"

"-Because I acted terribly before," she said quickly. "And I know my temper can flare up from time to time, and people tell me that I can be far too structured-"

"Jemma, stop I'm sure-"

"-And even though you have absolutely every right to be furious with me, and I know you'll probably never want to be proper friends again, you should at least know-"

"Jemma!" Fitz said. "For crying out loud, you were trying to talk me _into_ this a second ago!"

"The thing is. Fitz. I think I'm in love with you." She finally managed with a shrug. "That's all. Thought you should know. Before accepting the offer and all."

"Oh," Fitz said, genuinely surprised. "That's…"

Jemma smiled softly. "Anyways. I hope to see you in the office, whatever you end up deciding. Sorry for ambushing you like this," she turned away. "Happy New Year."

He put his hand on her shoulder again and pulled her back towards him. He smiled down at her like she was all the stars in the universe, and he pressed his lips to hers.

When he finally broke away, he whispered against her cheek. "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you too," he leaned his forehead against hers.

"Oh?"

"At least I think so," he grinned. "We may have to run a few tests… you know - Together."

Beyond the courtyard, fireworks burst through the night air and crowds cheered. Fitz opened the door to his apartment and led Jemma inside.

Beneath the city, the subway doors chimed closed. The train made its way down the tunnel to where the crowds were waiting to head home from their festivities. One year had made way for a new one. One with its own adventures, its own mistakes to be made, its own problems to solve. It was an amazing thing, having all that time to look forward to. It was all the more amazing having someone to share it with. Family, friends, perhaps something more, whatever name it's given, when the weather gets cold and the nights get long, it's just nice to be together.

 **END**


End file.
